Whinerpeg

Okay, it's freakin' cold. The kind of cold it just never is. Not exactly killer cold, like last night, but wow. Skin freezing cold. Worrying about frostbite on your face and hands cold. Cold cold cold. So cold, it being a dry cold just doesn't matter any more. Cold.

So I'm whining about how cold it is. I intend to go home and drink hot tea laced with honey liqueur from Poland which I bought on the advice of a friend. This is in lieu of the peppermint schnapps-laced hot chocolate I've been drinking in the evenings. Don't tell my endocrinologist.

So descending into dispomania, if that's what I'm doing, although I'm thinking I'm just fending off this cold or wahtever it is I woke up with this morning, perhaps I should have titled this post 'Winopeg'.

Or maybe, since I've been glorying in breakfast foods lately, 'Whipanegg'.

But not 'Winterpeg', cuz it's just too cold for that to be funny.

Let the googling commence.

So much for my planned trip to Trader Joe's and IKEA tomorrow. Oh well. I have laundry to do anyway.